As those of us in the United States approach the national elections, we dust off and examine our call to be prophets … of course, it is a call for all of us, all of the time. Sometimes the hot breath of the Holy Spirit is breathing down our collars. Todd Jenkins poem “Prophets” reminds us. For more of Todd’s amazing poetry go here

The prophets of old stand with and for the widow, orphan, and sojourner, just to name a few, still speaking truth to my power and your power,

not because they had psychic ability to see into the future,

but because power’s seduction and anesthesia have been the same since Eden.

The gospel calls us to not only accept this truth about the ways we have lived with privilege unawares, unquestioned, unexamined,

but also to speak this societal truth ourselves, not just in our worship, but in the marketplace, in the schoolhouse, in the courthouse, in the statehouse, and in the neighborhoods.

It calls us to stand against exploitation and oppression; to live and breathe justice and dignity in ways that make them a reality in the lives of all our communities.

Let us not just be the gathered religious community, but let us also dare to become the sent prophets.

Todd writes this, “My sister took that photo on a kayaking trip down a FL river near her house. The fact that a tree could remain standing with such structural/foundational flaws was both telling and hopeful to me, which is sort of the way the poem left me feeling after I began to comprehend its implications. That’s why I paired the two together.”